An old tradition preserved.
Wonderful sunny evening down by the Bristol Trader in Quay Street with the Cleddau at its highest. A dozen boats arrive to help the Mayor beat the bounds….
Ilya Repin caught it just right.
It looked like the crowd at Kursk, at once both well-dressed and tattered, haughty and humble, ugly and handsome, limp and athletic, heads held high and others downward looking in slight embarrassment. A young man on stilts with a long bamboo pole, which he tapped repeatedly on the ground both for stability and attention, wore a brown frock coat and a three-corned hat…. Continue reading “Beating the Bounds at Haverfordwest”